The Icarus Hunt

CHAPTER 14

I DIDN'T FIND out within the first hour after landfall on Utheno. I didn't find out for the simple reason that we never made landfall on Utheno. Though Ididn't know it then, it was going to be a long time before we made landfall anywhere.

My first hint of trouble should have been the cacophony of radio transmissionsthat lit up the official-frequencies section of my comm board as thehyperspacecutter array sliced the Icarus back into space-normal. I couldn't read any ofit through the encryption, of course, but the sheer volume of messages shouldhave told me something big was happening.

At the same time the comm board was lighting up with chatter, the visualdisplays were also listing out a horrendous tangle of ship traffic wrappedaround the planet in a hundred different holding orbits. A recorded message onthe main inbound-information channel apologized for the delay, cited a pair ofcollisions and a ground-station sensor failure as the cause of the backup, andpromised to speed things up as quickly as possible.

And in an uncharacteristic burst of credulity, I believed them. Given thatofficial confusion was made to order for us, I keyed in the orbit slot I wasgiven and headed in.

"Crowded," of course, was a relative term when applied to planetary holdingorbits. Our designated slot was a good fifty kilometers from anything else, with the only two ships at even that distance being a Najiki freighter fiftykilometers to port and a bulky Tleka cargo hauler the same distance tostarboard. More from habit than anything else, I keyed for mid-rangemagnification and had a good look at both ships. And it was as I was lookingat the Tleka cargo hauler that the warning bells belatedly started going off inthe back of my head.

I keyed the intercom for the engine room. "Revs, what's status on thestardrive?"

"Down and green," he said. "Why?"

"Get it up and green," I told him shortly. "Fast."

There was just the barest hesitation. "Startup procedure begun," he said.

"What's the trouble?"

"We're being directed into a slot fifty klicks from a Tleka cargo hauler," Itold him, still studying that display. "I can't be certain, but it looks to melike there's something lurking around the side of the hauler where I can't seeit."

"As in a Najiki Customs cruiser?"

"Or something even bigger," I agreed tightly.

"So why head in at all?" he asked. "Turn around and get us out of here."

"And let them know we know they're there?" I countered. "And that we've gotguilty consciences to boot?"

"You're right," he conceded reluctantly. "So we act innocent?"

"As the driven snow," I said. "At least until you've got the stardrive up andrunning. Let's just hope they can't pull any of the telltales with their ownsensor readings."

"These thrusters are pretty noisy, and across a big chunk of the spectrum," hepointed out. "That ought to mask the stardrive, at least at a fifty-klickdistance. Okay; I read thirteen more minutes to full green. I'll see if I canshave a couple of minutes off that."

"Good. Do it."

I took my time bringing us in the rest of the way, managing to eat up nearlyfive of Nicabar's thirteen minutes before we finally settled into ourdesignatedslot. I kept two of my displays trained on our companions to either side, wondering which of them would make the first move.

The Najiki freighter took that honor. Even as I ran thrust to the forwardmaneuvering vents to kill some of our momentum, I saw a large side hatch slideopen, and three dark gray starfighters appeared. They paused a moment as ifgetting their bearings, then grouped into formation and headed straight forus.

I keyed the intercom for all-ship. "This is McKell," I announced. "Everyonegetstrapped down and find something to hang on to. We've got unfriendly company.

Revs?"

"Still at least six minutes to go," he reported. "Probably closer to seven.

How long till they get here?"

"Depends on how much of a hurry they're in," I told him, watching the fightersclosely, hoping even now that it was a false alarm, that they were actuallyinterested in someone else entirely. But they were still coming, and showed nosign that they might suddenly veer off somewhere else. "Keep those thrustersrunning hot—they get even a hint that we're firing up the stardrive andthey'llbe all over us."

The words were barely out of my mouth when the Najik made it official.

"Freighter Icarus, this is Utheno Military Command," a calm Najiki voice cameover the comm speaker. "You are ordered to shut down your thrusters andprepareto be boarded."

"The thruster noise must be hurting their ears," Nicabar said mildly. "Whatnow?"

"We ignore them," I told him. "That came in broadcast, not narrow beam, andour ID says we're the Stewed Brunswick. It may be they're still not sure about usand are trying to spark a guilty reaction. Anyway, we don't dare shut down thethrusters now."

"You're going to risk drawing fire," he warned.

"Not yet," I said, shifting my attention from the incoming starfighters back to the Tleka cargo hauler. It was a classic, time-tested maneuver: a group ofgrass-beaters in front noisily and ostentatiously driving the quarry back intothe waiting arms of the hunter lurking silently in the bushes. In the bushes, or behind a Tleka cargo hauler, as the case might be.

Except that in this case the hunter was no longer hiding. He was there in fullview, his port-side weapons array just coming up around the cargo hauler'sdorsal spine: a Najiki pocket destroyer, its zebra-camo striping giving it analmost-delicate look. As warships went, I suppose, it wasn't much to bragabout; from where we currently stood, it looked about the size of Paris.

"Watch for them to target ion beams," Ixil's voice warned from behind me.

"Thank you," I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic as I threw a quickglanceover my shoulder. He was striding in through the doorway, gazing at mydisplays, his expression as glacially stolid as ever. The ferrets dug in on hisshoulders were betraying all that surface calm, though, twitching to beat the band. "Youhave anything else in the way of insightful advice to offer?" I added.

"I meant as opposed to lasers or disabler missiles," he said, stepping to theplotting table. "If they're acting on their own against suspected smugglerstheywon't be as careful to minimize damage as they will if they're doing this atthe behest of the Patth."

I was about to inform him that they'd already identified us as the Icarus whenthey helpfully made the point for me. "Freighter Icarus, this is your finalwarning," the Najiki voice announced firmly. "Shut down your thrusters or wewill open fire."

And that one, unfortunately, had come in tight beam, for our ears and no oneelse's. Which meant they knew who we were, and all hopeful thoughts of fishingexpeditions were gone.

As was anything to be gained by playing innocent. "Hang on," I warned Ixil, bracing myself and throwing power to the thrusters, keying the exhaust to theforward maneuvering vents. Our forward speed dropped precipitously; and withit went our orbital stability. Even as we dropped back behind the incomingfighters, we also began to fall toward the planetary surface five thousandkilometers beneath us.

Unfortunately, "precipitously" was also a sadly relative term. With a fighteror even the enhanced thrust/mass ratio I'd built into the Stormy Banks, such amaneuver might have caught our opponents at least partly by surprise. But withthe flying cement bag that was the Icarus, we didn't behave so much like aleaping jaguar as we did a hippo jumping backward from a dead stop in deepmud.

I could picture the Najik in the fighters and destroyer watching ourelephantineescape attempt and laughing themselves silly.

They could laugh all they liked. Their logical assumption—at least, what Ihopedwas their logical assumption—would be that we hadn't started activating ourstardrive until they'd sprung their trap, from which assumption they wouldfurther assume they still had ten to twelve minutes in which to short-circuitthat activation and gather us serenely into the hunter's waiting arms. What theyhopefully hadn't tumbled to yet was that we were in fact less than fourminutes from escape. All I had to do was keep them off us for those four minutes, andwe would be home free.

All in all, though, that was a very big if. Especially since the Najik inchargeof this operation was apparently not the type to dawdle simply because he hada little time to kill. The starfighters were swinging to match my maneuver evenbefore I'd completed it; and as they closed up ranks again faint green lineserupted from the ion-beam ports beneath their noses and tracked toward us.

I threw power to the Icarus's port-side vents, giving us a sideways yaw, hopingto keep the hyperspace cutter array at our bow out of the ion beams. But weturned every bit as ponderously as we braked; and even as I swore helplesslyunder my breath the beams converged on the cutter array.

And that was that. Clenching my left hand into a fist, I continued the uselessmaneuvering, waiting for the buildup of localized charge and the subsequentcrack of a high-voltage spark that would scramble the array's electronics andmake all of Nicabar's minute-shaving so much wasted effort.

The beams momentarily drifted off target as I dropped us farther into Utheno'sgravity well, converged again as the Najiki gunners reestablished their aim.

Anyminute now and the spark would come; and after this much charge buildup it waslikely to be a memorable one. Distantly, I wondered if it might even be strongenough to jump some of the current across the fail-safes and fry my bridgecontrols in the bargain.

And then I frowned, a brand-new set of warning bells going off in the back ofmyhead. There was something wrong here, something ominously wrong. I knew howion beams worked—I'd been on the receiving end of them more times than I cared toremember—and these were taking way too long to show their teeth. I keyed thehull-monitor cameras toward the bow and focused in on the cutter array.

And felt the breath catch in my throat. The ion beams were converging on theIcarus, all right, just as the sensor display showed. But in the last meter orso before they reached the array, something completely unexpected washappening.

Instead of maintaining their nice clean collimation, the beams were defocusingmadly, the ions scattering wildly to hell and gone. Which meant that insteadof building up the sort of localized charge that would create a devastatingspark, all they were doing was dumping ions into the hull plates, where the chargecould cheerfully build up without doing much of anything at all.

"It's the hull," Ixil said suddenly, his voice sounding as awestruck as Ifelt.

"The radial gravitational field in the hull."

And then, of course, it all clicked into place. Chort's spacewalks had shownthat the alien gravitational field inside the main hull was too weak to befelt outside the ship, but apparently the effect was strong enough to disrupt abeam of subatomic particles. Either that, or it was something else in the fieldgenerator that was flummoxing them.

And suddenly we had a chance again. Lunging to my control board, I keyed formore yaw. "McKell?" Nicabar called over the intercom. "What are you doing?"

"The fighters' ion beams aren't catching the cutter array," I called back, shifting my attention over to the destroyer. It was no longer waitingpatientlyfor us to be driven into its arms, but was burning space in our direction, itsown ion beam blazing away even though it was still well out of range. "Isuspectthe destroyer's beam won't affect it, either; but it almost certainly will beable to punch through the engineering hull and scramble your systems backthere.

So I'm turning the Icarus to put the main hull between you and them."

"Which will then leave the engine section open to the fighters," Ixil murmuredfrom the plotting table. "And they're closer than the destroyer."

"But their beams are also weaker than the destroyer's," I reminded him.

"There's an even chance the heavier metal back there will protect us from them. Anyway, we don't have a lot of choices right now. Revs, where's the countdown?"

"One minute twenty," he said. "At the rate that destroyer's closing, it'sgoingto be close."

"Yes," I murmured, slowing our spin as the Icarus's aft end turned to theincoming fighters, feeling sweat breaking out on my forehead. The fightersprobably didn't have the kind of sensor magnification that would let them seejust how peculiarly their ion beams were behaving. The destroyer, unfortunately, just as probably did. Sooner or later, the commander would get around totakinga close look at our cutter array and realize that it wasn't just poor aim onhis gunners' part that was saving us. If he did, or even if he didn't, at somepointhe would open up with heavier weaponry rather than risk letting us get away.

Unless someone gave him a reason why that might be a bad idea.

I keyed to the frequency the Najiki orders had come in on. "Najiki Task Force, this is the Icarus," I announced. "I'd be careful with those ion beams if I were you. We have a lot of sensitive electronics aboard, and I'll make you a smallwager the Patth will be extremely unhappy if you damage any of them."

"Freighter Icarus, this is Utheno Military Command," the Najiki voice cameback.

It didn't sound nearly so calm now as it had earlier. "This is your finalwarning. You will shut down your thrusters or we will shut them down for you."

"Of course, I'm sure it's occurred to you that anything the Patth are thisanxious to get hold of will be equally valuable to anyone else who possessesit," I went on as if he hadn't spoken. "The Najiki Archipelago, for instance.

Your superiors might want to think long and hard about that before you justturn us over to them."

"Freighter Icarus, you will shut down your thrusters," the voice came back. Abeing with a one-track mind, obviously, and not one to be drawn into adiscussion of political matters outside his control.

On the other hand, he hadn't opened up with his lasers yet, either. If he heldoff another forty seconds, I decided as I keyed off the comm, I could callthis one a victory. "Revs?"

"Still on track," he reported. "I'm getting small sparks from the starfighters'ion beams, but so far they're confined to the peripheral equipment. What inhell's name is keeping the destroyer off the cutter array?"

"I'll tell you later," I said, one eye on the dark stardrive section of mycontrol board and the other on my displays. I was still pulling evasivemaneuvers, if that was the right term for the graceless wallowing that was allthe Icarus was capable of; but if the destroyer was showing a new cautiontoward us, the same could not be said of the fighters. They had increased their speedand split up their formation, still playing their ion beams across the enginesection but clearly intent on bypassing that area, driving up along the hullfrom the rear, and converging on the cutter array from three differentdirections.

And while they might give their ion beams one last chance once they got there, they wouldn't waste much more time with them before switching over to theirlasers and what at that range would be an almost-trivial surgical-qualityoperation. "Revs?" I barked.

"Thirty seconds," he called.

"We don't have thirty seconds," I snapped back. The fighters were sweepingpastthe engine section now, keeping close to the hull in case we had some recessedweaponry nodes hidden among the maneuvering vents. "We've got maybe ten."

"Can't do it," he insisted. "Try to stall them off."

I clenched my teeth. "Then hang on."

And jamming my hands across the whole line of control keys, I sent thethruster exhaust blasting out the entire group of maneuvering vents at once.

The Icarus jerked like a horse trying to dash madly off in all directions. Buteven with that, our reaction wasn't anywhere near as dramatic as that of thethree fighters. Caught directly in the multiple blasts of superheated gas, theywobbled outward, their nice neat pacing vectors thrown completely off target.

Then they were out of the gusts, their own maneuvering vents blowing steam asthey fought to correct from the outward boosts they'd just been given. Islappedall the vents back off except for the main starboard ones, sending the Icarusinto another of its slow-motion turns. One of the fighters' tail fins scrapedagainst our hull as he wasn't quite able to get out of the way in time, andall of them were forced to again correct their vectors. I caught the mutedreflection from one of the fighters as the armorplate irised away from itsforward laser cluster.

And then, with a similarly muted but far more welcome flicker of light, thestardrive section of my control board lit up. "Up and green," Nicabar shouted.

I didn't answer; my fingers were already jabbing at the activation switchesand the preprogrammed course code I'd laid in. There was a noise from the comm—theNajiki commander, no doubt, saying something extremely rude—and then thecutter array did its electronic magic, and the stars vanished from around us. "Welldone," Ixil murmured.

He'd spoken too soon. I was just starting to breathe again when the deck underme lurched violently. "Revs?" I snapped.

"Spark damage," he called back. "Half the calibrations have been scrambled. Wehave to shut down."

"Do it," I said, keying off the controls from my end. The stars reemerged, only this time with no planet or nearby sun anywhere in sight. I gave the area aquick scan, but it was pure reflex: Our brief flight had put us in the centerof nowhere, light-years from anywhere. For the moment, at least, we werecompletelysafe from any outside trouble.

"Okay, we're closed down," Nicabar reported a minute later.

"Damage?"

"Doesn't look like anything major," he said. "A few popped circuit breakers, probably a tube or two that'll need replacing, but I know we've got spares.

And of course, a lot of recalibrating will have to be done. Time-consuming butrelatively straightforward."

"Ixil can help with that," I told him, closing the rest of my board down tostandby. No point leaving it active; we weren't going anywhere for a while.

"That can wait," Nicabar said. "You said you'd tell me later how we wereshrugging off those ion beams. Well, it's later."

I grimaced. But he was right. It was time I clued the rest of them in on justwhat it was we were sitting on here. "It is indeed," I acknowledged, keyingthe intercom for all-ship. "Everyone, get your stuff shut down and then assemblein the dayroom. I've got a little story to tell you."

THEY SAT IN silence, looking slightly sandbagged for the most part, while Igavethem the whole thing.

Most of it, anyway. I left out Tera's true identity and inside-person status, and the fact that Cameron—Alexander Borodin, rather—had been a secret passengerfor the first part of our trip. I also glossed over the part Tera had playedin the various incidents that had had me tied up in mental knots for most of thattime. The latter part didn't take much glossing, actually, given that Ixil andI were the only ones who'd known about most of them anyway.

I also left Jones's death out of the picture, leaving it as an impliedaccident.

Confronting a group of suspects with the knowledge that one of them is akiller might be an effective way to spark a guilty reaction, but at the moment myforemost interest was getting the Icarus to Earth, and for that I needed fullcooperation from all of them. Time enough to sort out Jones's murder if andwhen we made it that far.

While the rest were busy looking flabbergasted, Tera was equally busy glaringat me in menacing silence, from which I gathered she thought I should havecleared this grand revelation with her before I let everyone else in on the bigsecret.

I could sympathize with that attitude; but if I had consulted her she wouldprobably have forbidden me to do so. Then I would have had to go directlyagainst her wishes, which would have left her madder at me than she wasalready.

To say they were stunned would have been an understatement. To say they were suspicious and unbelieving, however, would have been right on the money. "Youmust think we're idiots, McKell," Shawn snorted when I'd finished. "Mysteriousalien technology? Oh, come on."

"And with the whole of the Patth race panting down our necks to get at it,"

Everett added, shaking his head. "Really, McKell, you should have had time tocome up with something better than this one."

"I expected this reaction," I said, looking over at Ixil. "You have thenecessary?"

Silently, he produced the connector tool he'd brought from the mechanics room.

Just as silently, he crossed to the back of the dayroom and removed one of theinner hull plates.

One by one, they went down into the 'tweenhull area to experience the aliengravitational field for themselves. Some took longer than others; but by thetime they came up they were all convinced.

They were also, to a man, scared right down to their socks.

"This is crazy," Everett said, hunched over a tall whiskey sour. Alcoholicdrinks of one sort or another had somehow been the beverage of choice for eachof them as he came out of the 'tweenhull area. "Crazy. This is a job forprofessionals, not a bunch of loose spacers picked off the Meima streets."

"Believe me, I'd like nothing better than to have a squad of EarthGuardMarines on this instead of us," I agreed wholeheartedly. "But they're not here. Weare."

"I presume you realize that if the Patth get their hands on us we're dead,"

Nicabar pointed out darkly, peering into his own drink. "Not a chance in theworld they'd let us go. Not with what we know about this ship."

"And what do we know about it?" Shawn countered, his fingertips tappingnervously on the table. "Seriously, what do we know? McKell says he thinksit's an alien stardrive. So what makes him the big expert?"

"No, he may be right," Chort said before I could reply. "Early Craeanstardrives used a very similar dual-sphere design, with an open resonance chamber as oneof them. Though much smaller, of course."

"Yeah, but did they work?" Shawn asked. "I never heard of any design likethat."

"Which means it can't possibly have been of any use," Tera murmured. "Not ifyounever heard of it."

Shawn turned a glare toward her. "Double-sphere designs work just fine,"

Nicabar put in, the firm authority in his tone cutting short any further argument.

"The only reason they're not used is that the Mobius-strip arrangement is morestable."

"Terrific," Shawn said with a sniff. "An unstable stardrive. Just what weneed.

Just what the Spiral needs."

"It's not unstable that way," Nicabar insisted, starting to sound annoyed.

"The theory shows that oscillations can form in the upper harmonics under high- stress conditions, that's all."

Shawn snorted. "Sure, but if—"

"Look, if you two want to discuss stardrive theory, go do it on your owntime,"

Tera cut him off acidly. "What I want to know is how we're going to getthroughthis gauntlet and to Earth."

"Why Earth?" Shawn demanded. Clearly, he was intent on alienating everybodyaboard today. I wondered uneasily if we were getting low on his medicineagain.

"Just because the majority of us are human?"

"Speaking as one who is not," Ixil interjected calmly, "I would say thatBorodin's ownership of the device should adequately define our finaldestination and cargo disposition."

"What ownership?" Shawn countered. "He dug it out of a desert on someoneelse's planet. What gives him any more rights than the Ihmisits who already livethere?"

"Basic Commonwealth law regarding salvage and extraindigenous archaeologicalrecovery, that's what," Tera told him stiffly. "The guidelines clearly putBorodin and his people in possession. That one's not even arguable."

"Well, well," Shawn sneered. "And when did you become our resident legalauthority?"

"We're drifting from the point," I spoke up quickly. I had no doubt Tera couldquote him the relevant laws line for line, and I had no intention of lettingShawn goad her into a display of such unreasonable expertise. "Tera's rightabout Borodin's claim," I went on. "But at the same time she's wrong about thefunctionality of this stardrive—"

"This alleged stardrive," Shawn insisted.

"This alleged stardrive," I corrected, "being none of our concern. In point offact, this hunk of metal may be all that stands between us getting to Earth orwinding up in the bottom of a very deep Patth pit somewhere."

For a couple of heartbeats they all just stared at me. Everett got it first, as I could tell by the distance his jaw dropped toward the floor. "You aren'tsaying—you're not suggesting—?"

"I think it's our best chance," I said. "The Patth know perfectly well howfast the Icarus can travel—it's not like stardrive speed ranges are any secret.

Theyalso don't want any more people than necessary knowing about this little huntof theirs, which means they're probably timing their bribes and governmentalpressurings to hit the systems just ahead of where we're flying at any giventime."

"I see where you're going," Nicabar said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Ifwe can get ahead of that wave front, we might have a chance of landing andrefueling before anyone in the area even knows what a hot ticket we are."

"Right," I said. "We may still run into a random Patth advance scout or two, but that'll be a whole lot easier to deal with than taking on an entire customsand military establishment."

"What about the underworld characters they've been bribing?" Everett asked.

"Even if the Patth themselves aren't talking, they're bound to be spreadingthe word about us."

"True, but remember that they're only giving out half the story to thatbunch,"

I said. "The Spiral's underworld is looking for me, and doesn't know anythingabout the Icarus itself. The Icarus's name won't do them any good, since we'recoming into each port under a different ID."

"Unless they also find out its shape," Shawn muttered. "We are just a littledistinctive, you know."

"And we know the Najik have already made the connection," Nicabar added.

"What's to keep them from spreading the word back to the Patth and across the rest ofthe Spiral?"

"The same thing that's keeping the Patth from doing so," I told him. "Namely, the desire to play this whole game as close to the vest as possible. For thePatth, the reasons are obvious; for the Najik, it'll be the hope of puttingthe choke collar on us themselves, thus guaranteeing themselves the full range ofwhatever goodies the Patth are offering."

"The basic flaw in motivation by bribery," Tera said. Her tone was neutral, but I thought I could detect a little grudging respect for my reasoning in hervoice. Or maybe it was just resignation. "All your supposed allies spend asmuch time jockeying for position among the rest of the group as they do on the huntitself."

"It's about all we've got going for us," I said. "That, plus the star-driveitself, If we can get it up and running."

Everett shook his head. "It's still crazy," he said. "What do any of us knowabout alien technology?"

"Not a lot," I conceded. "On the other hand, we're not exactly starting fromzero, either. Tera tells me she's found what seems to be a full set of theexpedition's reports in the computer."

"You're kidding," Everett said, blinking. "They put all their files aboard, too?"

"Why not?" Nicabar said. "They want to get the data to Earth, too. Why nottake all of it together?"

Shawn snorted. "Ever heard of putting all your eggs in one basket?"

"Actually, I suspect it's more a case of having had all the eggs together inthe first place," I told him. "I think the reason our computer is so badly suitedfor starship operation is that it was never intended or programmed for thatpurpose in the first place. It was probably the expedition's regular workingcomputer, which was already hooked up to the alien electronics in the smallersphere. They just left it where it was when they constructed the Icarus aroundit."

"Maybe," Shawn said. "Assuming all of this isn't just some hallucinatorywishful thinking, how exactly do you suggest we proceed? If Chort is right, wherewe're sitting right now is supposed to be a resonance chamber."

"Yes," I agreed. "And obviously, if it's going to resonate, it's going to haveto be empty. Mostly empty, anyway."

"Resonance means completely empty, McKell," Shawn growled. "Any first-levelphysics student can tell you that. Were you thinking we could cram the wholeship into the wraparound?"

"It does not have to be completely empty," Chort said, his feathers fluffing.

"In this application, the resonance effect only requires the central area."

"He's right," Nicabar seconded.

"For that matter, the presence of the interior gravitational field argues that the designers weren't expecting the whole thing to be empty," I added. "Thefield's clearly there to clear out the center and move everything to the edge, where it'll be out of the way."

"Unless the gravity is part of the resonance mechanism," Tera said.

"There's nothing like that in the theory," Nicabar said. "At least, not that Iremember."

"Nor I," Chort said.

Shawn waved a hand. "Fine. I stand corrected."

"So what's the plan?" Nicabar asked. "Disassemble the interior corridors andbulkheads and stack everything along the inner edge?"

"Basically," I said. "Except that I don't think we have either the space orthe need to keep everything. The interior wall and hull material should come apartinto a collection of mostly one-meter-square plates, which we can dump outsidethrough the main hatch. Ditto for some of the other unnecessary stuff."

"And what if it isn't a stardrive?" Shawn asked. "How do we get everythingback in again?"

"We don't," I said. "That's why we only toss stuff we know we can do without."

"And what if it doesn't work?" he persisted. "We'll have lost a lot of timeand won't be any better off than when we started."

"But we won't be any worse off, either," Nicabar reminded him.

"And if we can get it working, think of what it'll mean for all of us,"

Everett added thoughtfully.

Shawn sniffed. "Borodin will do great. Us, we'll be lucky to get the lousy twogrand he promised us."

"We'll get it," I promised. "That, plus the bonus he mentioned in his note."

Shawn snorted. "Yeah. Right."

"Actually, we may be able to do even better than that," Everett said. "It alldepends on who ends up shoveling out the money."

"I thought we'd already decided the Icarus belongs to Borodin," Tera said. Themenace in her voice was subtle, probably too subtle for the others to notice.

But I heard it, and I was sure Ixil did, too.

"We did," Everett assured her, throwing a look at Nicabar. "Mostly. I'm justsuggesting that we've already earned a lot more than the two thousand hepromised us on Meima."

"Fair compensation for services rendered," Shawn put in. "See? I can talklegalese, too. Here's another great legal term for you: extortion."

"And what's the 'or else'?" she countered. "Every demand has to have thethreat of an 'or else' along with it. Who are you planning to offer the Icarus to ifBorodin doesn't feel especially extortable that day? The Patth?"

"Let me just mention that anyone who wants to deal with those slime is goingto have to go through me to do it," Nicabar put in.

"The Patth are hardly the only players in this game," Everett reminded him.

"Potential players, anyway. If Borodin won't play ball there are a lot ofother people we could sell it to."

"Maybe even the Crooea," Shawn said, throwing a sly grin at Chort. "You'd likethat, wouldn't you, Chort?"

Chort's feathers ruffled, and he delivered some no doubt innocuous-soundingreply. But I wasn't listening. Suddenly, Everett's comment had sent the piecesfalling into place with such loud clicks it was a wonder the rest of themcouldn't hear them. Suddenly, the inconsistencies and random illogic of the Icarus's entire voyage were making sense. Suddenly, small bits of data andcasually odd comments were connecting together with the ease of children'splaying blocks.

Suddenly, I knew why Jones had been murdered. Not who had done it, not yet.

But I knew why.

"McKell?"

I blinked, dragging myself out of the depths of my introspection. Nicabar wasgazing at me, a speculative look on his face. "Sorry," I apologized. "Mindwandered for a minute. What did you say?"

"I asked if that was it for the meeting," he repeated. "We've got a lot ofwork ahead of us."

"That's it from me," I said. That was it for right now, anyway, I amendedprivately. The next time I held court like this it would be to expose amurderer. "Unless anyone else has something to add?"

Chort half lifted a hand. "I have a thought," he said, almost apologetically.

"Though I hesitate to mention it, as it will mean even more work for us all."

"We're facing a ton of work as it is," Ixil said. "Another half ton on top ofit will hardly be noticed. Please; speak."

"As Electronics Specialist Shawn pointed out earlier, the Icarus has a mostdistinctive configuration," Chort said, still sounding a little uncertain.

"And our experience at Utheno has shown that that configuration is now known. Mysuggestion is that we attempt to alter it."

"Straightforward enough," I said. "How do you suggest we do that?"

"The main body of the Icarus consists of two spheres," he said, drawing theshape in the air with his fingers. "My thought is that we could use the castoff interior plates to build a cylindrical sheath running between them at theirwidest points. From the outside, the main body will then appear to be ataperedcylinder with rounded ends instead of two joined spheres."

"With just the nose cone and engine sections sticking out on either side," Isaid, a tingle of cautious excitement running through me as I looked over atIxil. "Possible?"

"I don't see why not," he said. His voice was its usual calm, but the ferretswere twitching again. "At least in theory. We've got the equipment to spot- weld the plates to the spheres, and the plates themselves can be connected togetherwith the same fasteners that are holding them together now."

"I thought the cutting torch was dead," Shawn reminded him.

"We also have an arc-welding torch," Ixil told him. "It's still functional."

"What about supports?" Nicabar asked. "You're not going to have any structuralstrength to speak of here."

"We could add some braces in from beneath," Ixil said. "Assuming the weldingrods hold out, we ought to have enough material."

"And assuming we don't run out of power to run the welder," Tera said. "Howare we on fuel, McKell?"

"We've got more than enough to drive the generators as long as we'll need," Iassured her. "My question is how long Shawn's medicine is going to last."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Apparently, that aspect hadn'tyetoccurred to them. "Yes, that is rather a limiting factor," Everett conceded.

"I'd say we have no more than eight or nine days left on this supply. And that's if we stretch it out."

"Doesn't give us much time," Tera said. "Especially since we also have to get to a port once all this conversion work is finished."

"True." I looked at Shawn. "What do you think? Can you handle a week on low doses?"

He snorted. "I'll handle a week on no doses if I have to," he said bitterly.

"You probably don't know it, but the Patth had some major harvesting operations on Ephis, and were furious when the Commonwealth closed them down by interdicting the place. I don't think I'd get any sympathy from them if they grabbed us. And no borandis, either."

"Though they would probably consider that you had done them a small service,"

Chort said quietly. "You, at least, they could allow to die naturally."

Tera shivered. "And on that note, I vote we get going on this."

"Seconded," I agreed, standing up. "Ixil, let's go break out the tools."